A Chink In The Armour
by Sinceslicedbread
Summary: Jason Costello seeks advice, but is Brendan Brady the right man to ask?


A Chink in the Armour

Disclaimer: I don't own. So don't sue.

Before he even opened his eyes, Jason knew what the day would bring. Pain. Relentless pain, and his family.

Today was the day that he would be discharged from hospital. He would swap one kind of prodding, poking and endless questioning for another.

Apparently, he had made progress; but how could that be, when all he wanted to do was lie face-down in silence for evermore?

He didn't feel up for this, but he knew he had to summon the strength from somewhere.

Cutting had always been an issue for him. Before he had revealed Jason to the world, a sharp, cooling blade being dragged across his furious skin, had been his preferred method of stress-relief. As the blood bubbled up, instead of feeling pain, Jason had felt elation. Something, somewhere was answering his cries, his fears and frustrations. Only recently things had been different, more urgent, more desperate.

Instead of finding relief, cutting had only increased his sense of woe Finding unmarked sections of skin was becoming a problem. He was now opening up old wounds, older scars, which brought forth new dilemmas.

After his last hospital visit, he had been advised to squeeze ice-cubes instead of actually cutting himself; but every time he held a cube, he had wanted to throw it at the boy who was causing him so much pain.

Bart. Bart McQueen.

Jason screwed his eyes shut, to try and hold back the tears which predictably were trying to slide down his cheeks, in their own private toboggan race.

After all I did for him. I came running when he asked. Taking money and food to him and Sinead in the woods, and for what?

When we're alone in the darkness, he loves me. He does. He tells me. He shows me, but when the cold light of day arrives (aka Sinead) he can't slap me in the face fast enough.

It's not fair! I've done nothing but love him,

Jason lost. He couldn't hold back the tears. He bowed his head and wept. As he did so, he thought of where all this pain had led. His last cutting session. That time had been different. It had a different purpose. There was meant to be no return.

Jason had calmly and deliberately cut his wrists; in a diagonal fashion across the vein to efficiently achieve his aim. He had then serenely waited for the big sleep. The end to all pain, and had almost achieved it, until Seth had snuck into his room to borrow his IPod without asking and had ruined everything.

Waking up on the ward had been a bitter blow.

Who needs enemies when you have family?

The drama that had raged around his bed everyday had been unbearable.

He had never seen his dad cry or his mum cry so much.

No-one would leave him alone, not least the physicians and the psychologists, who now played tag-team with each other to occupy the one visitor's chair his cubicle held.

At least it would be quieter at home – he hoped.

One more hour before the Costello carnivale arrived. Just enough time to come up with a plan of action.

When I get home, if I'm going to stay….around I'm going to need help.

Constructive help. A proper plan. Support.

Jason had already spoken to Noah about trying to be taken seriously as a gay man, but he had moved to Newcastle for a new job.

Ste was Jason's natural second choice, but he was on holiday with his kids. So there was no-one.

No-one except, him.

It was risky. It was, after all, only rumour that he was gay, although Ruby had said she'd seen him and Ste practically shirtless in the village.

Jason decided he would give it a go regardless. He would ask Brendan for some advice on living as a gay man.

What harm could it do?

-OOO-

They say that women fear the birth of their second child, more than their first. They approach the first in a state of naïve bliss, completely unaware of just how bad things can get.

It was this naivete that carried Jason to Brendan's door.

Jason knocked on it with an authority that he didn't really feel.

The double door swung open almost immediately and Brendan looked out over Jason's head searching for his visitor and seeing none, until he lowered his gaze and caught sight of him.

Jason couldn't be sure, but he swore he saw a slight sneer on his lips.

"Hi Brendan, um would it be ok if I had a quick chat with you?"

Jason hoped that Brendan had picked up on the word "quick".

Brendan flared his nostrils, narrowed his eyes, but surprisingly agreed by nodding his head twice in quick succession, and walking into his flat, leaving the door open for Jason to follow.

Once inside Jason should have felt more confident, but his nervous system had failed to get the memo.

Brendan walked to the middle of the room and turned to face Jason.

"What do you want?" He asked. He failed to offer her/him a seat, as he didn't want this to take up any more time than it had to.

"Your help, well advice really". Jason said, grateful that he could cut to the chase.

"Could you give me some pointers on living life as a gay guy?"

Jason thought he'd heard growling and stopped briefly, before continuing.

"How do you cope with openly loving another man?"

There was no mistake this time; Brendan was making a deep guttural rasp.

"It's just that you and Ste seem to be.."

"Stephen, his name is Stephen and how dare you mention him to me". Brendan snapped.

"I ain't no, I'm not a poof."

With each word Brendan's voice got louder.

"The nerve of it. Ye come in here and.."

"Sorry, it's just that everybody says you're lovers," Jason hurriedly explained.

"EVERYBODY!" Brendan screamed.

He whirled around and lashed out.

A chair that caught the brunt of Brendan's anger, ended up at Jason's feet.

Jason's upper eyelashes reached his eyebrows in a flash.

Alert now, his body went into fight or flight mode.

Brendan was now pacing the room, screaming and flailing his arms around in wild aggressive circles.

Jason couldn't catch all that he was saying, but one thing he knew for sure- he wasn't happy.

They say that the safest place to be during a hurricane is at the eye of the storm. They lied.

Brendan circled Jason.

"Out " he demanded. "Get out. What makes ye think I'm queer?"

He picked up a vase and dashed it to the ground.

"Why are ye still here? Eejit get gone"

A picture frame was hurled at the wall.

Brendan suddenly changed tack. He pushed up against Jason and pinned him to the wall.

He didn't touch him, just trapped him between his arms. He leaned in close, like an animal sniffing its prey.

Jason had closed his eyes by this point.

_I think he's going to bite me_

_RUN_

Jason ducked under Brendan's arm and crossed to the door in record time.

He tried to open it, but it wouldn't comply.

Quickly, quickly he begged silently, panic rising within him.

Eventually, after what seemed an age, the door gave way. Jason stumbled out. Catching his foot on the doorstep, he landed awkwardly on his right ankle. However he didn't let this impede him from getting as far away from Brendan, as quickly as possible.

He ran all the way home. Charged through The Dog, narrowly avoiding Jacqui behind the bar, re-adjusting her pony-tail.

He raced up the stairs to his room and flung himself down on his bed, and cried. For ages.

Look at me, I'm pathetic. Crying. I'm such a girl!

This last thought hurt the most.

What a disaster! Why on earth did I think he could help me?

He's an utter nutter!

A nutter I am never going near again.

Oh my days, I'm trembling. Shit.

Jason stayed in his room, for the rest of the day. Refusing all company and requests to join the family meal.

If I'm going to be an outcast, I may as well start now, he thought.

-OOO-

After Jason had fled, it took an age for Brendan to calm down, and when he did, he didn't feel any better for it.

Brendan wasn't usually troubled by his conscience, but in this instance he was.

He just couldn't get past the fact that he had visibly upset this he/she, who had displayed more guts than he possessed, and had actually come to him for advice.

Why was he so outraged?

Really, if you thought about it, what was the real cause?

"I'm not gay" he muttered to himself.

You keep telling yourself that, his conscience replied flatly; actions speak louder than words.

Brendan squirmed. He hated being honest with himself and usually avoided it at all costs.

This she/he had touched a nerve.

_The truth._

How dare she/he be so blatant?

_Brave._

Insulting me in my own home.

_You invited her/him in._

Whichever way he looked at it, Brendan was in the wrong, and he knew it.

-OOO-

Seeing how upset Jason had seemed the night before, over what he wasn't sure, Seth had invited him along on his date with Ruby to Mobs.

The three of them could have smoothies and hang out. It would do him good he thought.

Needless to say, Ruby had other thoughts entirely, but he had insisted and surprisingly she had agreed to it, in the end.

Everything had been going well until Jason looked up and saw Brendan approaching Mobs.

Surreptitiously he pressed 9,9, on his phone, which was hidden in his pocket.

If he flips out again, I'm pressing the other 9, I swear to God, he thought.

"Er Jason, Jason is it? Can I have a word with ya?"

Brendan glared at Seth and Ruby. Taking the hint, both hastily rose to their feet and left. Ruby left her Lady GaGa key-ring behind, so eager was she to escape his company.

Jason glanced to his left. Was there time to make a run for it, before Brendan noticed?

Probably not he supposed.

With trepidation, he raised his eyes to meet Brendan's. He was met with what he thought were kind eyes, but that must have been a mis-understanding on his part.

However he was too afraid to stare any longer to double-check, so he let the mis-understanding stand.

"How ya doing wee fella?" Brendan asked awkwardly, as he sat down carefully on the seat opposite.

Jason thought he sounded nervous. What reason would he have to be nervous?

Never mind, just play along. If there are no sudden moves, then no punches need to be thrown he reasoned.

"Fine" Jason managed to say in reply "and you?"

_And you! Why are you interested in how this psycho is feeling today? _His brain argued.

"Yeah good...so about yesterday. The way I. It shouldn't have happened. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I apolo... I went too far . I'm sorry".

Shocked was just one of the words Jason could use to describe how he was currently feeling.

"I just want to set the record straight – so to speak.

People think that I'm, well that I, with other, but it's not true. Not the way they think it is. I'm not a ... I'd never in public. That's not me".

He was rambling. Brendan didn't ramble.

He took two short breathes and started again.

"I'm not gay- I just sleep with people who aren't women. Simple as."

Jason looked at Brendan, with an "are you for real?" expression on his face.

Even Brendan had to concede that that particular argument wasn't holding up well.

"Some might see it differently" he relented and shifted uncomfortably in his confined seat.

Plastic-useless for cutlery, useless for seats.

Jason cupped his face in his hands, as he lent on his elbows, staring at Brendan in confusion.

His sleeves fell down slightly and Brendan could quite clearly the bandage on his wrist.

On both wrists.

He tried not to stare, but it was impossible not to.

Something clicked.

Something reminded him of Vinnie and the mess he had managed to get himself into, when his dad had violently rejected him and thrown him out of the family home, for being gay.

Brendan wasn't to see or hear from him for two weeks. When he did, it was only after he had managed to track him down, to some run-down NHS clinic.

There he was, spaced out, drugged up and patched up.

Bandages on both his wrists too.

It broke Brendan's newly-formed heart, to see this husk of his young lover; pale, drawn and shaking.

He couldn't let him stay there. He had him moved to a private facility immediately; where his every need was taken care of.

Except his need to see Brendan.

Brendan didn't visit.

He couldn't.

That discovery was to be the last time that Brendan saw Vinnie.

The memory of which was just one of the regrets on a mountain of regrets, he now carried with him.

Without thinking Brendan said.

"Talk to me".

"I'm sorry, pardon, what? Did you just say...?"

Jason squinted trying to comprehend.

Brendan cleared his throat again and carried on.

"If you need to talk to someone, I'm always here.

Day or night".

Then before he could stop himself, he continued,

"If you're confused, depressed, unsure or scared.

Talk to me

If you've failed your exams. If you're being bullied.

If the girls don't like you or the boys don't notice you.

Come to me.

If alcohol is taking over your life, if drugs are too tempting. If you're hearing voices in your head or if your heart's distressed.

I'm here.

If you've pawned your soul, feel invisible, insignificant or alone.

Run don't walk towards me; because I would rather stay up all night talking to you than visit your graveside.

You don't know how great things can be.

You're just on the cusp of the good stuff.

Don't throw it all away, because of fear.

Come see me".

"I'm here now" Jason said.

Thrown slightly Brendan hesitated, then he went on.

"Being gay is not so bad". He spoke these words slowly and carefully, as though they were a foreign language.

"It just takes a bit of adjusting to, that's all." He made a wry face.

"Some cope better than others." His cheek twitched at this.

Pushing down his own insecurities, he ploughed on.

"What matters most is how you feel about the other person and how they make you feel.

Would you stand in traffic for him? Protect him at all costs?

Cross un-crossable boundaries for him?

When you're together, is he all that you can see?

All that you need?"

He laughed gently at this.

"More than you need at times."

Brendan found the more he talked, the calmer he felt.

"Does it go without saying that you would always be on his side?

When it's just the two of you, is it the best feeling in the world-ever?

Despite what everyone thinks, would you rather be with him than without him?"

"Yes of course." Jason whispered.

"Then he's a lucky guy this..?"

"Bart. Bart McQueen," Jason interjected.

"I'm just worried."

"About what?" Brendan asked.

"I know he likes me, more than likes me, but he can't accept me like this."

Jason's hand swept the length of his body.

"He just wants friendship."

Brendan considered this.

"Give it time.

He just needs to get his head around it.

He's going to have to change the way he thinks about himself to be with you.

By being with you, he will be viewed differently. It's a lot to take on.

Some struggle." Brendan looked into the distance after this, then back again.

"Be patient.

Remember, if you can do friendships, you can do relationships."

Brendan twisted his head to look solidly into Jason's eyes. He gently held his chin.

He lent in close, placed his mouth by his ear and dropped his voice.

"You're not alone, got that? Good lad."

Jason nodded and attempted to speak, but the lump in his throat was bigger than the Adam's apple he aimed to have one day.

When Brendan stood up to go, he had to clutch at the chair to steady himself. He felt unbalanced somehow, as though slightly winded.

As he walked away, it wasn't lost on Brendan that he had never had a successful friendship in his life.

He pushed this revelation to the back of his mind. It was just another thing that he tried not to think about during daylight hours.

Another regret, to join the mountain that already existed.

-OOO-

Jason watched Brendan's silhouette recede into the distance. He felt as though he had been run over by a dump-truck, such was the impact of their little chat; but inspite of this, an idea started to germinate.

It was madness but could he have possibly found a new friend?

He smiled at the thought. Funnily enough it didn't fill him with fear.

That's got to be a good start surely?


End file.
